


The Messenger

by Leeko



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: F/M, Post-Finale, Sad with a Happy Ending, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2020-03-06 19:39:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18857755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leeko/pseuds/Leeko
Summary: It’s an inconspicuous small parcel, wrapped in brown paper and held together by a thin cord. Not much bigger than Dan’s hand and slim like it only contains a small booklet.Chloe takes it from him, surprised at how light it is. Frowning, she realizes that whoever sent her the parcel did not care much about appearances - it is thoroughly dusty. Elegant black letters capture her name on the front.Chloe Jane DeckerDetective





	The Messenger

“Hey Chloe, someone left this for you at the entrance.”

Chloe jumps a little at the sudden voice from Dan who is standing right in front of her desk. _How come she hadn’t seen him approaching at all?_ Her mind is still wandering around most of these days. It has been six months since Lucifer went back to Hell. Even though it ripped her heart apart daily life moved on and so she reluctantly went back to work. At least here she is surrounded by trusted people who understood her grief.

“Oh, hey Dan. I err… I’m sorry, what did you say?”, she answers just a little bit confused.

“You got a parcel from unknown. Did you expect something?” Dan looks a bit worried. No surprise as he used to be the recipient of explosive deliveries in the past. “At least Security cleared it so you should be save to open it.

It’s an inconspicuous small parcel, wrapped in brown paper and held together by a thin cord. Not much bigger than Dan’s hand and slim like it only contains a small booklet. 

Chloe takes it from him, surprised at how light it is. Frowning, she realizes that whoever sent her the parcel did not care much about appearances - it is thoroughly dusty. Elegant black letters capture her name on the front.

_Chloe Jane Decker  
Detective_

_That is a strange way of addressing staff from the LAPD._

She turns it over twice, making sure Dan didn’t miss the sender but in the end she, too, cannot find any additional information. With a strange mix of anticipation and dread she pulls the cord apart. The paper wrapping which looks like it was used several times before unfolds without much defiance. 

The first thing she sees is a rich red color. A small detached part of her brain immediately jumps to memories she desperately tried to suppress throughout the last few weeks. _Stop it_ , she thinks, _He’s gone and won’t come back that easily_. She reaches inside the wrapping to pull out the item.

A shuddering breath leaves her as Chloe feels the silken material, whispering “No, this can’t be real...” In her hand is a very distinctive red silken pocket square and she only knows one person in this world who would wear that on a regular basis. And this person is gone.

She misses him every day since he left her side that evening. The memory of him leaning down to kiss her still vividly replays in her mind daily. The rush of wind as he spread his magnificent white wings. The sorrow she felt as he took off. The fear whispering into her ear that he will not be coming back. 

The second time in a few minutes Chloe jumps because of her inattentiveness as suddenly Ella’s voice intrudes her memories, “Whoah is this silk from the Bombyx mori silkworm? I once read an article about its quality and how expensive it is. I bet Lucifer would wear such a thing.” She raises her eyes to not only see Dan but Ella watching her suspiciously. The handkerchief is crunched up worryingly in her fist. After a long second watching both their faces Chloe ignores her co-workers and stands up hastily, ready to see his face. He surely will watch her opening the gift just so he can come striding down the stairs a minute later, arms wide open and a joyous “Detective” on his lips.

Holding her breath, she waits for it. 

And waits...

...And waits...

But Lucifer is still gone.

\----

Examining the video footage from the reception, the three of them are quickly able to identify the person delivering the parcel. His name is Bob Muller, a mediocre looking guy who according to the police’s system should have been dead for 2 days. 

Ella as well as Dan thankfully don’t mention the absurdity of this case nor why Chloe clings like a drowning person to the red pocket square. She can convince both to let her check this man on her own, “It probably is just an error in the system. You know how it is Dan, sometimes a person is declared dead and 2 hours later walks into the precinct like nothing happened.” One of these days she wants to tell them the truth about Lucifer and all the craziness that is her life now. But today she needs to face this on her own. 

When Bob Muller opens his door it is early evening. The dim light from the street lamp across does not help reducing his paleness. She immediately get the feeling that this guy went through a lot in the last days.

“My name is Chloe Decker and I believe you delivered this to the precinct this morning. So, let me cut straight to the point: who are you and why do you have Lucifer’s pocket square?” She holds the red silk in front of his face. Sunken eyes widen in terror as Muller sees the fabric. “You...you her!”, comes the flustered answer. “Please don’t hurt me. I did exactly as I was told. Please don’t send me back.” 

At this point the person on the other side of the door starts to become a sobbing mess. Chloe pushes him further inside the apartment and closes the door behind her. No need to attract any more attention. To her left she sees the kitchen so she moves to fetch a glass of water. Incoherent mumbling can be heard from the other room. With a quiet disgusted sigh she realizes that all countertops are coated in fine ashen dust. 

The glass in one hand she returns to Bob, “Ok, listen to me. I cannot protect you from whatever scares you unless you tell me everything. I’ve read the report which says you were shot dead, confirmed by the coroner. So why are you sitting in front of me two days later?”

Water drips down his chin while he takes deep gulps from the glass. He looks pathetic in his wrinkled clothes and messy hair. The apartment smells like it hasn’t been cleaned in ages and everything is covered in dust. “I...I remember being in a 7-eleven. A gun in my hand.” Chloe frowns, having read his record on the computer. She takes a seat opposite from him, trying to appear relaxed and calm as to not frightening him more than he already is.

“I think the cashier had a gun himself. There’s shouting. A shot. A-and I think I’ve been shot by this dude. I’m lying on the floor. And it’s getting cold...So fucking cold.” There is a pause. “I think that’s the moment I died.” 

Chloe has a feeling where this monologue is heading but she needs to hear it from him. This petty criminal headed to the place she fears and longs for equally. She tries to get him to look at her, “That may sound crazy but I believe you, Bob. I believe you that you died. But I need to know what happened next.”

Bob seems now to get a hold of the situation, no longer in fear of imminent death. “Lady, you have no idea. One moment you’re here, in LA. And then whoosh… The next thing you’ll see are these huge basalt stones. It’s dark and you can barely see your hand in front of you. I think I was in some kind of small room? But I was completely alone. And the heat. It was so fucking muggy.” He takes a deep breath and pauses for a minute as if to catch a hold of his thoughts. Chloe tries her hardest not to shout at him to continue. _Is this what Lucifer sees every day?_

“I always suspected that I will never land in Heaven, you know. But this? ...Whatever.” He leans forward to grab a cigarette from the coffee table. The flame from the lighter pierces through the oppressing darkness of the apartment. Bob continues unaffected, “Not sure how I knew that this is Hell but I somehow knew, you know?” Another drag from the cigarette. “So, I am standing in this empty room. An hour? A day? Maybe a year? Fuck...really hard to tell in that place.” 

Chloe’s not sure why she lets him keep going. She only needs to know how he came into the possession of Lucifer’s handkerchief. It’s like he put a spell on us and we’re both trapped in this cell. “First you have this indescribable restlessness, like something is about to happen. It’s as if I am being watched - something lurking in the dark corner. But no matter how hard I try to see the outlines of this corner it keeps evading me.” Bob now gets more agitated by the second again. Like he is talking himself in trance. He shakes his greasy hair with his left hand, more dust falling to the ground. 

_Wait. This is not dust._

_This looks like ash._

Chloe wipes a finger over the armrest, enamored by the consistency of the ash. “I...I, err...I cannot do this.” The man suddenly halts his restless movements, visibly torn between stopping those memories and continuing his story. 

“Fuck, Lady.. I try. I really do.” A deep breath. “Alright...You asked, so I tell you. But please don’t ask me again.” Another deep breath. “I remember seeing a door. No wait, that’s not it. Not like I saw the door. More like realizing there is a door. Maybe it was always there, maybe it just materialized a moment before.” 

Since Lucifer’s departure six months ago, Chloe spoke occasionally with Linda about Hell. As his therapist Linda had so much more insights into this part of his life and enthusiastically shared them with her, glad to finally bring those two different lives closer together. Chloe learned about the melancholy nature of that realm, about how people like Malcolm strand there on their own accord and how each prisoner creates his own cell where he suffers in an eternal hell loop. Suddenly a thought occurred her, “How come your room was empty?”. 

“How...what do you mean by ‘empty’?”

“I mean, why was your cell empty whereas everyone else in Hell lives through a visual projection of their own fear for all eternity?” 

She can watch the slow realization of her statement hitting Bob. Maybe it was not fair of her to mention it to him since one day he will be back in that cell. Maybe with her statement she made sure that Bob’s subconscious will create a hell loop the next time. But she is still not wiser as to how he came into the fabric’s possession. _And who knows, maybe he even will turn his life around and eventually end up in Heaven?_

He takes a visible gulp, “He said I don’t belong here - yet.” _He?_ “I...I... he said I can redeem myself if I listen closely.” His eyes are now wide open in terror, clearly not being here and now. But Chloe doesn’t need Bob to confirm what picture he remembers. 

She has seen it, too. 

Was terrified by it, too. 

Fled from it. 

And now? Chloe smiles at the memory of his devil form. It’s part of him as much as her eyes are blue. It has been a long way but right now in this tiny dusty apartment, she misses his devil face more than everything. Listening to this guy’s story for the past hour though she gets the feeling that Lucifer will not be back today. 

“He said to me that we don’t have much time and that I need to do him a favor.”

With a heavy sigh she realizes that Bob was merely a messenger.

“He gave me that parcel and looked into my eyes...t-tho...those horrifying red eyes...” 

She can almost feel Lucifer in front of her. 

“He said he will leave that door open. That I should turn left and start running for a light. ‘Don’t stop for anyone...or anything’, he said.” The cigarette was now completely forgotten. She cannot say if a minute or another hour passed before he continued, “I almost was out of the door when he grabbed my arm.” A quick glance downwards shows a nasty burn scar. Chloe almost feels pity.

“Tell her I haven’t forgotten her. And that I will find a way back.”

**Author's Note:**

> Initially this work was intended to be a small drabble: "What if Lucifer sends Chloe a gift from Hell". Not sure where the other 2000 words are coming from. The character of Bob is actually an homage to a twitter discussion with the topic "Why do original characters always have weird name and are never called just Bob".
> 
> As always, everything is unbeta'ed. Feel free to point out any typos or other mistakes :)


End file.
